Ultimatum: Wish Granted
by MRAY 4TW
Summary: On their birthdays, ten year olds get to make a wish that they must either use before midnight or it becomes null. Once done, the wish's effects last for a full year before fading when they complete their transition to eleven years old. They have the imagination... yet only one chance to do something truly earth-shattering. (Part of my Original one-shot ideas.) R and R.


**Ultimatum: 10 Year Olds Control the World**

 **Summary: On their birthdays, ten year olds get to make a wish that they must either use before midnight or it becomes null. Once done, the wish's effects last for a full year before fading when they complete their transition to eleven years old.**

 **This story came from the votes from the readers of Breaking Limits. Enjoy.**

 **Claimer: My original story. This is a one shot, and** _ **not**_ **ambitious, although the idea could be. Maybe someday when all my stories are done or if I'm only juggling three stories or less, I'll work on it some more. But Ultimatum will never cease! Ideas crowd my mind… and my notebook! I OWN THIS!**

 **1- Shot.**

The normal peaceful day in the col-d-sac was smashed to pieces by youthful yelling as two youngsters; eight and ten were acting their age in a backyard in the shade of a large deciduous tree. Most of the adults were (conveniently) unavailable and there was no one to chastise them for being too loud.

All in all, it was an idyllic day.

"C'mon! You can do this Johnny!"

"Don't call me that! My name's Jonathon!"

"You're the big 1- O now! Y'hear me! Ten!"

Said ten year old was rubbing his head furiously trying to think of what he wanted the most. This, while one may think it an unbelievably awesome opportunity, it was very common since the year 2010. It was now 201- and as far as Jonathon was concerned, it was now his turn.

"Alright! I wish for-"

"Whoa, whoa! Remember that you can't wish for more wishes!" His best friend Arnold interrupted. "Last year, Chantelle's wish was a bust because o' that!"

Jonathon growled a bit in his throat. He was about to wish for the very same, too. "Well… I wish that I was the ri-"

"And you have to be specific!" Arnold yelled.

"RAAAGH! You're annoying me again! I wish you'd just stop talking!" Jonathon yelled back, his patience completely worn down. Almost instantly, he realized his slip and slapped the palm of his hand over his mouth but the 'damage' was already done, be it intentional or not. He hesitantly looked to his best friend who lived on the other side of the fence through the large peephole who stared back at him.

Arnold was immensely fearful of trying to say anything, terrified that the wish had taken away his ability of speech. The small boy's heart pumped his life liquid furiously through his veins, the perpetual action causing a sort of 'drum beat' effect in his ear. In fact, the sound felt as if it was a sort of prelude or introduction to a world that would no longer be to have his voice and the thought terrified him.

"Arnie? Say somethin'. Please!" Jon begged.

The eight year old commenced by opening his mouth, his brain signals sending orders to his vocal cords to vibrate along to what needed to be said correctly and ended by manipulating his tongue and closing his mouth at intervals to produce sounds from unconscious actions to perform the task that humanity can't seem to have had enough of.

Talking.

"Ahh… I can talk!"

"Whuh…whoo!" Jonathon released his exhale in a goliath sigh he hadn't realized he was holding. "Oh… I thought…" He sank unto the grass, now relieved. He had believed that he would have been in trouble of gigantic proportions but it was now okay. It was okay.

"Yeah! I nearly **thought** _ **that**_ _I couldn't-…_ " Arnold trailed off.

Jon did not look up from where he was staring at a patch of dying grass beneath the tree. Silence reigned for a few more seconds before Jonathan looked up. 'That's not funny. I mean, who pretends to lose their voice as if someone just turned down their volume or something?" He asked, trying to sound older than his years suggested.

Silence answered him.

"Arnie?"

Silence.

He looked through the fence's large knot-hole and saw his best friend grasping his throat and appeared to be trying his hardest to say something but failing. The boy gulped, now becoming increasingly worried. "…Arnie…? This isn't funny…"

Arnold looked like he was now screaming but nothing was coming out audio wise. Jonathon noted how the boy's face reddened with the effort he was expending and veins in his neck started to bulge a little, emphasizing the boy's efforts to speak. Jonathon's nightmares fast becoming realized yelled again to his best friend.

"Arnie!"

Silence.

Jonathon screamed himself and ran into his house via the back door. His safest haven which had seemed safe and secure in the past offered its services once more.

Jonathon ran to his bed and crawled underneath it, clenching his eyes tightly and praying for all of this to just be a bad dream. However, there would be no release.

 **Six months later** , and nothing much had changed.

The two best friends had returned to school in the fall, both completely silent. One was so, not by choice and the other, completely by choice. One was under the influence of a wish and the other, an oath of silence.

Both 'spoke' to everyone via text messages and social media. Otherwise, they simply kept to one another's company, one of a silent but probably one of the strongest bonds of a lack of speech that one had ever known. To think that a friend who had inflicted a curse on someone who he regarded like a little brother that he would decide to do the same to himself was in a word…sensational.

Their time in their classes was exceptionally awkward. A teacher might call on them once a week to answer a problem and had to expect a text message in a minute or so. Seeing that's how the brothers kept in touch with others in the class, the principal for their school allowed their respective classes to use cell phones. Unfortunately, it was expected that the class would abuse the privilege given to them. But seeing as how that adults weren't as tech savvy as the children, or as cunning, they always got away with it.

 _ **ULTIMATUM**_

 _Have you heard?_

…

 _Heard what?_

…

 _Raymar wished to be a fireman._

…

 _Oh yeah? He always wanted that._

…

 _Why are we using predictive text?_

…

 _It's easier._

…

 _Hgshdfgswiifhgd feifhcsh_

…

 _What?_

…

 _That was easier._

…

 _Ha._

…

 _LOTI_

…

 _LOTI_

…

 _Hold on. This still stands for laughing on the inside, right?_

…

 _Yeah. Where's the list of our short words?_

…

 _I have it saved in drafts. I'll send it to you._

…

Arnold pulled up the draft and sent it to his best friend on the other side of the fence. The tree that grew right on the boundary was practically melded with by the tall picket fence that separated them. It provided a shady area for them both to sit in, texting one another. The very tree that helped to mark out their separation also unified their homes in a certain sense and in the process, each other. The tree was too large to fell from before they were born became something that both boys could say 'belonged' to them. The backyards were theirs, the tree was theirs and the silence…was theirs.

And because of it, their friendship grew stronger.

Arnold sometimes blamed himself for the failed wish, all because he was being annoying. He knew that his best friend's parents had deliberately left the house for the day in fear that he would wish for something extremely counterproductive to their health, like wishing children sometimes did. Like in the case of Nick, who wished for his parents to just leave him alone when they were trying to console him over something. Needless to say, the poor boy was now in an orphanage, abandoned by his parents who wanted nothing to do with him. They loved him one day, and the next, hated him as if he were the bane of their existence.

This whole 'Birthday wish' thing must have been the best and worst thing to have ever happened to the planet since the entry of fast food. Everyday across the globe, children were becoming substantially rich, getting the latest in fashion, becoming music sensations, becoming world leaders. These wishes were getting fairly common and annoying.

The more unique and 'selfless' wishes were that of grandparents getting cured from terminal illnesses, children becoming 'Superheroes' with so-called 'powers', becoming the smartest on Earth and of course, the case of people 'disappearing.' Of course, the person disappearing is usually traced back to the person who knew and made a wish on that same day.

Wishing…was dangerous.

The effects lasted only a year and yet, damage lasted for a lifetime. Eventually, the 'powers', dying people and money would simply go up in smoke and left one feeling…empty.

The boy's phone beeped and he looked down at it to see that he had received a message. He quickly pressed 'Open'.

 _I'm lucky._

Arnold raised an eyebrow before punching in the buttons for his own text.

 _What?_

He immediately sent it and waited.

 _I got a best friend. And we don't even talk to each other._

Arnie smiled.

 _Good thing you didn't wish for me to disappaer or something._

…

 _You spelt disappear wrong. Use the predictive text._

…

 _You spoilt the moment._

…

 _Whatever. Anyway, it's your birthday in seven months. What are you going to wish for? Are you going to wish for me to stop talking?_

Arnold hesitated. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Trust his soon-eleven year old friend to be thinking that far ahead. He had always seemed to have gotten the best maturity or whatchamacallit ever since they both went silent. Truth be told, he didn't know what to wish for. Or rather didn't have any needs. His parents put food in his belly, gave him an allowance to spend, toilet paper to wipe himself and comic books to read while doing…that thing. He was…fine. Besides, all those pictures of stuff in the comics couldn't be trusted anyway. He once wasted his allowance on buying a toy it told about and it didn't even do anything. Besides, what was the point? He couldn't even 'do' a voice for it. He might as well have played with a block of wood.

 _I don't know._

…

…

…

 _I don't know either._

 _ **Ultimatum**_

The conversations grew slightly shorter. Jonathon feared that he had dug up some bad feelings or something of the sort when he mentioned the wish. But that couldn't be it. Arnold had forgiven the same week, even before he took the vow of silence until Arnie spoke again. But did it really? Reading what someone wrote was near impossible to determine if they were lying or not.

'What if he wishes for me to be silent too or something?'

Arnold assured him that there was no animosity between the two of them. Truth be told, he was spending a lot of time trying to think of a wish that would benefit them or others. But no such idea came.

Either it wasn't specific enough, or it would backfire in the worst way. The last thing they needed was for a dead person coming back to life as a zombie or something. They've watched enough TV. for their imagination to conjure this up in their minds and this 'coming back to life' thing…was idea #16.

It was harder than he thought. He now realized why kids his age wished for things they did. They did it feel better than their peers, to feel powerful, in control, to escape poverty. Soon, they would return to previous states, being worse than their peers, being weak, had no grasp over their respective situations and perhaps even poorer than before.

One year was not enough time to really make a difference.

Nick sat beside him in the class, crying silently over his abandonment. Arnold patted him twice on the shoulder, trying to cheer him up over his situation. He took out his phone with his right hand in the meantime and typed one-handed a text to the grieving boy.

In another minute, Nick's phone rang and the boy took out it out to read the message.

 _It's only for one more month._

Nick was still crying a bit but now, at the very least smiled, albeit sadly. He nodded once to his companion, who nodded back. Arnold retrieved his hand and leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling.

'What to wish for?'

In some areas of his mind, he wondered if he should even wish for anything. It's as if whatever or whichever being granting wishes for 10 year olds knew that they wouldn't wish for anything that could possibly destroy the world, only land it in a certain degree of chaos. It certainly made life interesting, but one of the kids in his class disappeared or went missing (something of the sort) shortly before his tenth birthday. Everyone suspected foul play but the parents… it's as if the parents were now scared of their children, spoiling them to some degree or doing something extremely adverse to avoid having them wish something bad in retaliation.

It all came back to maturity.

Wishes…were dangerous. Really dangerous. What if the next time a kid made a badly worded wish?

That's when he realized it. He was, as of now the perfect solution to the problem. He had no needs, wants, revenge-schemes or had it out for anyone, be it bad or benign. It may seem like he had the perfect life, but he was just a naïve nine (& ¾) year old. He felt as if there were a lot of things in the world that could be changed but then again, he didn't know where to start.

The ten year old world leaders, maybe?

 _ **Ultimatum**_

"Did you have a good day at school, Arnold?"

…

…

 _Yeah. It was okay._

When she finished reading the text, she looked away from it to her son, who shrugged his shoulders. As she looked him over, the ever-present silence grew to an uncomfortable apex, prompting the woman to begin speaking again. But she did it in a ramble.

"So. I've been looking at the calendar. Jonathon's wish wears off on Wednesday. Aren't you glad?"

Arnold shrugged again. He could safely say that he did not miss being able to speak; that is, he had gotten used to being a mute. Even his friendship with Jonathon was stronger because of the silence. While one could be beyond earshot of a yell, so long as they had a (charged) phone, distance didn't matter. They had the strongest friendship around and not to mention, the longest 'conversations.'

He raised his hand with his palm pointing towards the ground, making a half- and- half motion. His mother accepted the response, although she had expected him to be doing cartwheels in anxiety, being excited for the day to pass. It was as if he had aged twice as fast, while still growing at the same pace.

She reached out her own hand to stroke his hair but her hand detected nothing of the sort. Her son stared at her in his quiet way, but she could now see befuddlement in all four of his eyes.

She was seeing doubles again.

Recognizing this fact, she tried to laugh off any concerns that her son had and immediately made a beeline for her bedroom, knowing that another splitting headache would be coming to pass in a very short time…

 **They grew more** frequently within the next three days. The aches grew more devastating as well and were almost becoming the norm. It was as if she was in a constant headache that got worse most of the time like recurring high waves on a beach but when _they_ got better, she was in a low level one. His mother retreated to her room and surrounded herself with painkilling medication that did close to nothing to ease her pain. She refused to enter anywhere that was lit, or had loud sounds, and as a result, her area for, was akin to a tomb. Luckily, she had the peace from any noise.

But she had no way of communication with her son. The simple backlight was more than enough to send her into agony.

Jonathon's eleventh birthday came and left Arnold still in silence. Jon had understood that something was wrong in his best friend's household, and wisely decided to not pry. As a result, for three whole days had left Arnie with absolutely nothing to do except to think. It was…horrible for the almost-ten year old.

His birthday was on Sunday, and now it was only Friday. He would be having a 'happy birthday', perhaps in another year, but not this one. The most important age in existence was in a few days and this…this happens?!

He had caught his father helping his mother from the family car in the driveway. She was wearing shades and a cap while wearing what could be called her Sunday's best but the woman was from smiling.

She was not crying. Not frowning, not furrowing eyebrows, pursing lips.

She was perfectly stoic.

Dad walked her up to her room and stayed there until suppertime, still leaving the boy to stew in his thoughts 'til then. Once back downstairs, the man only fixed up a quick meal of white rice and some canned fish and left again, not even realizing that the protein was one of few things his son was intolerable of.

The boy simply stared at the plate in front of him before taking it up and prepared to throw it in the bin. As he was about to dump his dinner, he saw a large printed piece of paper amongst all the waste from that day. Placing the plate aside, he reached his hand into the bin and ignored all the grime to the sides as the limb made its way down.

He nearly fell into the large bin in his efforts but he got it regardless and stood straight again. The paper was crumpled and messed up. There were even meat stains that the paper must have landed on without a doubt but he ignored it as he unfolded it.

It looked important at first glance, and most of the red printed words which caught his eye did not make any sense, or stir recognition. Words like **cancer, malignancy, brain-stem, and TERMINAL**. Why was that one in big letters?

Something was going on and he got the feeling that this was larger than him.

He quickly ran up the stairs to his room and got out the dictionary that he often used for school.

 _ **Ultimatum**_

It was a bright, cheerful Sunday morning. The birds were singing, children were playing and Arnold was locked away in his room, staring at the wall.

Two sticky notes were stuck to it, written on with a red crayon in bold. Arnold had written them carefully, and spent his precious Saturday laboring over the spellings to ensure that he made no mistakes. There would only be one chance to make a wish and he could not waste it.

And yet…one chance was not enough.

There was one wish…it would change the entire world for the better. Perhaps even better than just better.

The other one…would save his mother's life.

He suffered in silence, listening to his bedroom clock tick in its monotonous, eternal rhythm. He was all alone. He 'told' everyone that he wished not to be disturbed so he knew that there would be no distractions.

A new sound came into being in the room, that of a raspy sound. At first, it sounded grating but it soon became clear. It was that of unused vocal cords suddenly being used again after a year of being completely mute.

The whisper was what it was. Just a whisper. Quiet, but still entirely audible.

"I love you, mommy."

 **And that's it. It's a bit of a cliffhanger but uh… story's done. TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT! Anyway, should I get requests to finish this (or tidy it up, at the very least,) I will. I still have two more Ultimatum ideas. Look out for 'em.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


End file.
